Crayola tumbled back and fell, saying nothing until she heard the door slam. She licked her bloody fingers, nodding her head. "Right...he's over it alright," She chuckled after her remark, shaking her head as she started to clean up the spilt batter from the floor.
She got a sponge from the kitchen and started to scrub vigorously at the floor. "I really need to stop messing with people. One day this pursuit of understanding one's character is going to get me killed," She sat on the floor, looking up to the chandelier. "Is that what drove Cree to..." She shook her head, concentrating to the floor. "Best I not think about things of this matter...BLAH!" She tossed aside the sponge, slipping on her shoes and tossing on her jacket.
"Hey Michael, sorry for screwing with your head but I have to make sure I'm not gonna get bled to death if I cut myself!" She shouted from the door. "I'll be back!" she shouted again, closing the door. She buttoned up her coat, placing her hands in her pockets as she blew a curl from her face. 'Though it's not like you'll care..."